


A Compass that doesn't point North

by Chibiness87



Series: An Exercise in Nostalgia [1]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Episode Related, Episode: S03e15 Piper Maru, F/M, MSR, UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 08:50:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13971561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chibiness87/pseuds/Chibiness87
Summary: I'm fine, she tells him. He scoffs. Sometimes he thinks the world will be falling apart around their ears and she will still be 'fine'





	A Compass that doesn't point North

**Author's Note:**

> So a few weeks ago I started binge watching The X-Files from the very beginning, bad suits and fax machines and all. These days, the suits are nicer, and the tech has upgraded, but my love of these two remains as true as it ever was, all these years later. My first attempts at writing fiction were based on these characters, but those attempts have long been destroyed. But watching them from day one has brought back the reason why I stated writing fanfic in the first place. So here's a nostalgic, back in the day fic, set in Piper Maru.

**A compass that doesn't point north** , by  **chibiness87**  
**Rating** : T. Language.  
**Season/spoilers** : set 03x15 Piper Maru  
**Disclaimer** : Not mine

* * *

 

The tension has been radiating from her since she walked in to the office earlier that day. (Technically, it still only has his name on the door, but has felt more like theirs since she didn't dismiss him out of hand within ten seconds of first meeting him.  _Actually, I'm looking forward to working with you._ ) In an attempt to break the walls she has thrown up against him (something that she so rarely does these days it feels like a curve ball from left field), he pauses in the gantry of the plane, only half full, pointing to their seats. Tilting his head in her direction, he offers, "You want the aisle seat this time?"

Scully barely looks at him, shaking her head slightly. Voice quiet, she tells him, "I'm fine."

It's the sixth time she's said that to him in the past hour, and he's had enough. "Ok." Waiting for her to slide in first, he stores their luggage, keeping the case file down within easy reach, before settling himself in the seat next to her. Trying (and failing) to keep his voice casual, almost playful, he asks, "Which side of the bed did you fall out of this morning to land you in such a delightful mood?"

"I said I'm fine."

He scoffs, gives up the casual tone and snaps back, "Oh, I know you are."

Her head whips round to glare at him. "What's  _that_  supposed to mean?"

Mulder shakes his head, annoyed. "That's all you've said to me since we left the office. You're fine. Well, that, and two 'yes's, three 'no's, and a 'sure'." He sighs, dropping his head for a moment. When he looks up again, concern has replaced the sarcasm in his tone. "What's up?"

Scully shakes her head, not meeting his eye. "Nothing."

"Bullshit."

She sighs. "Mulder…"

Concerned now, Mulder rests his hand on hers for a moment. It is enough to make her glance at him, before she pulls her hand free, settling it in her lap. Hiding the dart of hurt that cuts him at the move, he tentatively asks, "Is this about dragging you out to San Diego?"

He'd thought she'd be pleased he hadn't gone off and left her again, something he is definitely trying to improve on. But now, he's concerned he's gone too far. He can feel the engines begin their wind up for take-off; if she didn't want to come with him she should have said something before they got on the damned plane. But before he can panic, or apologise, she is shaking her head.

"No. It's fine."

That bloody word again. Sometimes he thinks the world will be falling apart around his ears and she'll be 'fine'. (It'll be a few years yet until that theory is put to the test, but he has no way of knowing that yet.) Falling back to a habit that has a surprising high success rate (namely: annoy her until she gives in, as opposed to telling him to fuck off), he prods, "You mad at me for leaving the expense report for you to do?" Making sure to keep his tone light, so she'll hear the tease in his voice, he adds, "I thought you liked paperwork?"

There is a tightness in her lips now, an exasperated sigh on the horizon. "Mulder."

Feeling a crack beginning to appear, he presses on. "You're not still upset about that video tape, are you? Because, I swear, I have no idea how it got…"

She snaps, but not in any way he had expected. Hissing through her teeth, she glares at him for a moment. "Not  _everything_  is about  _you_ , Mulder. Jesus."

The silence that falls suddenly between them is deafening. Concerned again now, he twists in his seat, taking in her profile. Stiff and angular, he can see the tension in her jaw as she grits her teeth. Daringly, he reaches across the infinite chasm of mere inches that separates them, letting his hand fall on her arm. "Scully."

Anger still colouring her tone, she shakes his arm off again. "Drop it."

"Dana." Her name, soft as gossamer, escapes him, almost like a forbidden secret.

"Don't." He hears it then; the slight tremble to her monosyllabic answers.

Voice still soft, he reaches over, this time letting his fingers rest against her cheek. "What's going on?" Gently, he tries to turn her head, to get him to meet his gaze, but she ducks out of his grasp.

"Hey.  _Hey_." His voice is still soft. Gentle. Reaching up, he cups her face again, pleased when this time she doesn't pull away. "Hey, Scully. What is it?" A slight pressure brings her face to face with him, and he sees the welling of tears in her eyes. "What is it, Dana? Tell me."

Her eyes slip closed and a lone tear escapes her. Brushing it from her skin with his thumb, he almost misses her shaking whisper. "He's going to get away with it."

Mulder shakes his head slightly in confusion. "Who?"

"That… that man. Person. Whoever, whatever he is." Scully looks down for a moment, before meeting his gaze with hers once more. "He's going to get away with killing Missy."

"Scully?"

She sighs. This time when she drops her chin, he lets her go, moving instead to take one of her small hands in his. The tenderness of the move doesn't escape either of them, but they both ignore it. "Skinner called me in to his office earlier. It's why I was late." She trails off, biting her lip. Eyes focused on their joined hands, she finally lets him in to what has been bothering her. "Apparently it's not worth the hassle to keep my sister's case on the DC metropolitan police active case workload anymore."

Mulder blinks, shock not even beginning to cover what he's feeling. "What?"

"He said…" Scully glances at him, eyes brimming with tears once more. "Skinner said they're claiming manpower costs and timing and…" She breaks off with a hitch, a sob caught in the back of her throat.

"Scully." Suddenly he wishes they were in a place where he could tug her into his arms and hold her, not stuck in a tin can for another 5 hours. Instead, he squeezes her hand in his, pressing his head against hers, letting her know he is there.

He doesn't know how long they sit like that, but eventually her tears stop enough for her to pull back and look at him. Her tears have left small tracks down her cheek, and her eyes must be red, given the haze he sees around the blue of her iris. Closing her eyes, she rests against his shoulder for a moment. "It's all bullshit, Mulder. All of it."

"Scully." He untangles their hands, cupping her face gently once more. "Hey, look at me." He waits for her to bring her eyes up on her own accord. Making sure she doesn't look away, he promises, "It's still an active case on  _my_  workload, ok?"

Her eyes widen slightly, and he ignores the small stab of pain at the doubt her surprise shows. "Mulder." She shakes her head against his hand, some of her hair falling over her eyes. "I… I can't ask you to do that."

Unable to help himself, he tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear. With a soft smile, he tells her, "Good job I'm not asking you to then."

Her brow furrows in puzzlement. "Why?"

He raises an eyebrow in return. "Why?"

"Why would you do that?" She shakes her head again, dislodging his hand. Tucking her hair back herself this time, she glances at him. "Skinner's already said he'll appeal the decision. You don't need to…"

"Scully," he says gently yet firmly. "She's your sister." He says it like it explains everything, because, to him, it does. Somewhere along the line the small woman at his side has become an important, if not the most important, part of his being; why would he not help her now, after everything Melissa did for him? With a small twitch of his mouth at the thought, he adds, "Besides. I owe her."

Scully pulls back slightly, the better to twist her torso to see him clearer. "Owe her? For what?"

He sighs, uncertain how to tell her. But Scully is insistent. "Mulder? What do you owe her?"

He sighs again, leaning back against the headrest of the uncomfortable airplane seat, eyes falling closed. Quietly, voice slightly trembling in remembered pain, he rasps, "When you were taken…" He pauses. Swallows once, hard. Tries again. "When you were gone, I was lost." He blinks his eyes open, turns and pins her with his gaze, drinking in her presence like a man starved. "God, Scully, I was so fucking  _lost_." He swallows again, looks down at his hands. "Your mom… she… But I couldn't. I wouldn't believe that you weren't coming home. That you were gone." He pauses again, lost in the memory of the pain and the despair. The sight of the stone her mother had picked out ingrained in his mind. It is only the feel of one of her small hands reaching over to grasp his that breaks his revere. Glancing up, he takes a breath. Continues. "And then you were back, but they, the doctors, nurses, everyone, they didn't give you much hope."

"I know all this."

"I had a chance to catch them." His confession is a whisper, and he feels her freeze next to him, pulling her hand away.

"What?"

Mulder manages to catch her gaze for a second, before he has to turn away. "The men. The ones responsible."

"How?"

"An… informant of mine. You know who I mean. He came up with a plan. Gave me… I had a window. To catch them." He lets out a pained laugh. "' _Catch them'_ , yeah, right." He looks up, making sure this time neither of them look away. "Kill them, is what I was going to do. Put a bullet through each and every one of the bastards' heads for doing that to you."

"Mulder…" Her voice is pained, but whether for her or him he doesn't know.

"But before I had a chance, your sister came by." His mouth flicks into a small smile. "She came and we talked." He lets out a small snort. "She handed my ass to me with her words, more like."

"I don't know what that means."

"She gave me back my compass, Scully. She pointed out what really mattered, matters to me." He blinks, looks away for a brief moment, before catching her eyes again. "Do you know what I'm trying to say?"

Scully looks away, unable or unwilling to let him in, and he pretends it doesn't hurt. There is a line they are both aware of, but by unspoken agreement don't cross, and he has come dangerously close to toeing it. Too much, his mind tells him. Too close.  _Not nearly close enough_.

"Mulder... I…"

Eyes downcast, fixated now on her hand she still has pressed against his, he presses on. In for a penny, in for a pound, and she is worth every cent he owns. "I sat with you all night. All night, Scully. And in the morning I when I got home, they'd been there. Of course they'd been there. My place was all tossed to hell, and I knew I'd missed my chance to exert revenge."

Scully sniffs, and he belatedly realises she has been trying not to cry throughout his confession. "I'm sorry. I never asked you to…"

He can't let her put any blame on herself; not for this. "No. Don't apologise. Don't… that's not… Fuck." He breaks off. Gives a harsh sigh. "I picked you, Scully." He makes her meet his gaze again. "I picked you. And it was the right decision. Every time."

"I…" She tries to break his gaze, but he won't let her.

"Every. Time." He waits for her to nod in acquiescence, both of them remembering a time he gave up what he thought was his sister for her return. He softens his gaze, letting her break eye contact finally. Giving her hand a gentle squeeze, he settles back in his seat. "We'll find out what happened to your sister, Scully." This time when she glances at him, it is of her own violation. "We'll find the man responsible. I promise."

Her head ducks down again, her voice a mere mumble to her chest. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Mulder."

But there is nothing but conviction in his tone when he tells her, "I'm not."

"Ok." Scully nods, finally reaching for the case file. She flicks through the first few pages of the report she's already read on the way to the airport. Her attention still on the pages, it takes him a minute to respond, his own hands fumbling slightly with a packet of sunflower seeds, when she finally whispers, "And, Mulder?"

"Hmmm?"

"Thank you."

He cracks a nut, letting the saltiness coat his tongue for a moment, waiting to see if she says anything else. When she remains quiet, ostentatiously involved in the case, he nods. "Any time."

They both know what he means.

* * *

End.

Thoughts?


End file.
